Van Sweet Van
by T'Poptarts
Summary: I dreamed I was Hawkgirl. Happens a lot actually LOL. So I turned it into a fic because it was just so stupid and ridiculous I couldn't help myself. Warning: NOT intended to make sense. My subconscious is a strange place! HG/GL, BM/WW


**Van Sweet Van**

By: T'Poptarts  
Disclaimer: not mine  
Spoilers: none

I dreamed I was Hawkgirl. (I dream I'm Hawkgirl a lot actually LOL) So I turned it into a fic because it was just so stupid and ridiculous I couldn't help myself. (Warning: NOT intended to make sense. My subconscious is a strange place!) HG/GL, BM/WW

A/N: written from Shayera's POV because I was her in the dream. I relinquish all responsibility for the bizarreness of the plot and blame my subconscious instead.

* * *

Don't ask me why we're all cramped up in this green Volkswagen Vanagon. I have no idea. No, seriously. No idea. It was Batman's idea. Ask him. The Watchtower is undergoing repairs, our apartments are being watched by the Government Conspiracy of the Week, everyone else is out of comm reach, and for the time being, this van serves as our headquarters... and living quarters. The Bat has a very sick sense of humor.

Conveniently enough, Batman himself does **not** live in the van with us. Can't blame him, who **would** wanna live in this claustrophobic nightmare in a trailer park that looks more like a scrap yard in the middle of nowhere, with seven other people. No, Batman parked **his** rich pampered butt in his gigantic Wayne Manor, but for some reason he won't let **us** stay there. Come on, I'm sure he has at least a **few** rooms that aren't stuffed full of Bat-gadgets.

So it's just me, John, Flash, Superman, J'onn, Diana, and the baby. Oh, yeah. Diana just had a tiny little screaming baby girl a few days ago. She keeps all of us up every night and is responsible for the van's Used Diaper Smell.

Diana looks **way** too good for someone who just had a baby. I hate her. But then again, she probably made her out of Magic Amazon Mud (TM) anyway. Either that, or she somehow knocked Batman up, and he won't let us stay at the Wayne Manor because he doesn't want us to see him with the baby weight.

Hey, stranger things have happened.

In case anyone is deluded enough to expect juicy details (that includes you, Flash – yes, we **do** notice you peer behind your seat with dreamy eyes every time we stir in an attempt to find a less uncomfortable sleeping position), John and I share a luxury trunk with a lovely view of the rusty old car parked behind us. Can't complain, though; the baby lives in the glove compartment. The closest thing I've had to any "action" here was when I woke up one night to the feeling of John trying to move me.

"What?!" I mumbled, half asleep.

His response was, "Is that your mace or are you just happy to see me?"

Needless to say, I've been going to bed unarmed ever since.

Anyway, we're minding our own business when out of the blue Mordru shows up, snatches the baby and disappears. What he wants with a screaming little Amazon baby is anyone's guess. Last time it took the entire League to defeat him. This time, there's only five of us. John is taking care of Green Lantern business elsewhere, and Batman is busy saving Gotham/brooding/working off his baby weight/all of the above.

We call upon the mighty Javelin – finally, some wing room! – track Mordru down to some God-forsaken planet, and boom away. However, the planet is apparently not God-forsaken enough to not have a defense screen that disables the Javelin's systems. Or at least that's Superman's excuse when we crash on the planet surface, probably to avoid having to take a shot at the breathalyzer.

Luckily, we manage to salvage the Javelin's Mother Box so we aren't stranded without a way home.

We decide to split up. Flash and I take the forest, the others look around the city. It doesn't take us long to locate Mordru, because, really, how hard can it be to track down someone the size of a skyscraper. We attack him with all our might. Only problem is, the magical traits of my mace put me at a disadvantage. His magic is much, much stronger. So I abandon my mace on the ground and do what every sane person would do facing a giant powerful sorcerer unarmed: punch him in the face. And crash every single bone in my right hand in the process.

I burst into hysterical laughter. Obviously, it didn't even tickle him. It didn't hurt me as much as I expected it to, either.

Mordru seems confused as to why one would be laughing so hard after smashing their bones. My teammates take advantage of his momentary confusion, steal the baby back, and trip Mordru into a one-way trip through a boom-tube to a galaxy far far away. Hooray, the day is saved by my incredibly stupid action.

When we get back to Earth, and to our Van Sweet Van, we find out that the trailer park is condemned and a bulldozer has already started mowing down the other side of the parking lot. Well, that certainly explains why we're the only residents in the neighborhood. Fortunately, our van and its vacant neighbors are still untouched. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's surprised when we start the van and the old thing actually works. I was beginning to think the wheels were only for decoration.

That's it. Off to the Wayne Manor we go. And if Bruce doesn't like it, he can hide his post-pregnancy fat butt in that Batcave of his for all I care.

Nah, my money's on the Magic Amazon Mud (TM).

I think.

~The End~


End file.
